Gerry
02-18-2008, 05:21 PM
I've often heard about people going on holiday to sunnier climbs and complaining of suffering from *****ly Heat well on today's walk I discovered a new condition.
It was minus five degrees when I was out in the car earlier with a crisp white layer of icy crystals covering everything in sight. There was something clinical about the view. A purity that no human hand could have ever attained. The sky was cloudless and clear blue similar to that over the hottest desert, but this wasn't a hot or dry.
I checked Toby's water bowl and fount a solid block of ice, no water, just stainless steel clad ice. There he was curled up in a fluffy ball and warm as toast with the part of his cushion not covered by his body solid and brittle as glass.
The sight of the dog lead has the furry ball uncurled and wagging furiously waiting to be connected and make a burst for the hill. The crystals crunched with every step as laid our tracks across the virgin layer on our assent. My woolly hat was soon soaking with sweat with the effort of the brisk walk up the hill but as the droplets started to run down my face they froze and I felt my skin as if it was being stung by a thousand needles.
I had discovered *****ly cold.
By Gerry Temple
copyright February 2008
It was minus five degrees when I was out in the car earlier with a crisp white layer of icy crystals covering everything in sight. There was something clinical about the view. A purity that no human hand could have ever attained. The sky was cloudless and clear blue similar to that over the hottest desert, but this wasn't a hot or dry.
I checked Toby's water bowl and fount a solid block of ice, no water, just stainless steel clad ice. There he was curled up in a fluffy ball and warm as toast with the part of his cushion not covered by his body solid and brittle as glass.
The sight of the dog lead has the furry ball uncurled and wagging furiously waiting to be connected and make a burst for the hill. The crystals crunched with every step as laid our tracks across the virgin layer on our assent. My woolly hat was soon soaking with sweat with the effort of the brisk walk up the hill but as the droplets started to run down my face they froze and I felt my skin as if it was being stung by a thousand needles.
I had discovered *****ly cold.
By Gerry Temple
copyright February 2008